


if you need me, let me know (gonna be around)

by seijoh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Canon Compliant, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Slow Burn, lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijoh/pseuds/seijoh
Summary: Hinata asks, “Where do you see yourself in five years?”“Playing volleyball,” he says. The words fall from his tongue easily. He doesn’t even have to think about it.“That’s it?”Kageyama exhales. The thought of being forgotten emptied his appetite. He’ll etch his name in history, force himself into remembrance. The world will know Kageyama Tobio—setter, volleyball player, Karasuno alum, one half of the freak quick duo—even if it kills him. “That’s all there is.”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120





	if you need me, let me know (gonna be around)

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up after three years of not posting* Heyyyy I'm alive.. haikyuu amirite?
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this fic I wrote in a 48 hour long fever dream after finishing the manga. As always, this is unedited. Didn't even preview this mf, just hit post and went on.
> 
> For maximum effect i'd recommend putting "10-20-40" by Rina Sawayama, "Ribs" and "400 Lux" by Lorde, "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, and "Take A Chance On Me" by ABBA in a playlist, hit shuffle, and then loop. It's an experience, trust me.

**stalemate (n.)  
1\. a situation in which neither participant in a contest, competition, or struggle comes out ahead of the other**

December 24, 2014 

“Do you ever think about the future?”

“Hm?”

Talks about _the future_ and what happens after aren’t actually all that uncommon now that they’re third years, what with teachers harping on and on about entrance exams and entering the workforce and becoming productive members of society. For the most part, it falls on deaf ears. Kageyama already knows what he’s going to do with his life and has known for years.

He also knows that, realistically, what is _now_ isn’t necessarily guaranteed forever. Back then, the third years had seemed like fixtures created _in situ_ , permanently bound to Karasuno and the volleyball club, like ivy crawling up a wall. Then Asahi had left for fashion school in Tokyo and Daichi had joined the police academy and Sugawara had entered university. Then the second years left too.

And then it had just been them, left alone, staring into faces he couldn’t quite place to names. In his first year, before Kageyama had been introduced to Daichi’s upperclassmen, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that there had been a Karasuno before the three of them. Logically, of course, he knew that there had been, but knowing and understanding were two different things. He wonders if it’ll be like that for him too, just some unfortunate loser’s unfortunate upperclassman whose name they won’t even recall immediately after being introduced to them. 

Hinata pokes Kageyama in the side, just underneath where his ribs end, then bites into the meat bun that Coach Ukai had bought for them after that day’s practice. “Wheh doo yuh seh yuhseh fih yeh fuh nuh?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full and expect me to understand what you’re saying, idiot.” Kageyama takes a hand and lands a solid chop on Hinata’s head.

After chewing a bit too fast (Kageyama almost worries that Hinata will choke to death one day), Hinata asks, “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Playing volleyball,” he says. The words fall from his tongue easily. He doesn’t even have to think about it.”

“That’s it?”

Kageyama exhales. The thought of being forgotten emptied his appetite. He’ll etch his name in history, force himself into remembrance. The world will know Kageyama Tobio—setter, volleyball player, Karasuno alum, one half of the freak quick duo—even if it kills him. “That’s all there is.”

**touch (v.)  
1\. to bring a bodily part into contact with especially so as to perceive through the tactile sense  
2\. handle or feel gently usually with the intent to understand or appreciate**

April 3, 2014 

“I’ve never been kissed before,” Hinata says one day in their second year. It’s abrupt, almost out of the blue, and it makes Kageyama’s head swivel around to look at him with an indecipherable expression. They’re the only ones left in the gym, with everyone deciding that Ennoshita’s bribe of meat buns was more tempting than practicing for a few more minutes. For the two of them, who’d been in the middle of working on Hinata’s serve, no meat bun could ever compare to volleyball.

“Ok,” he says and prepares to get ready for another jump serve. His accuracy for on-the-line, just-barely-in serves still hangs somewhere around the 90-93% range, and with enough practice, he’s hoping to bring it up.

Hinata sighs and collapses dramatically on the floor. “ _Kageyamaaaaa!_ You don’t understand, because you’re such a…. _Kageyama_ -type, but I want to be kissed.” He pouts and glares up at the overhead lights like they’ve personally offended him and driven away anyone who’s ever wanted to kiss Hinata Shoyo.

Kageyama makes the executive decision to ignore Hinata and focus on his serve again. _Back right corner in three...two….._

“Tanaka said it’s nice,” Hinata adds with another sigh.

He scowls, concentration broken, and shoots Hinata a deadly look. “I thought Tanaka was still in love with Kiyoko-san. Don’t try to be—”

“ _Oooooh!_ You haven’t heard, Kageyama?” Hinata has a teasing smile on his face, and Kageyama almost wants to ki— “Tanaka and Kiyoko-san are dating.”

“What.”

“Yeah!” Hinata sighs and throws his head back against the wood floor with a thump. “And that’s how I know he’s an expert at kissing. Because he’s dating someone.”

Kageyama frowns and looks down at the volleyball in his hand, the same one he still hasn’t gotten the opportunity to serve. “If I kiss you, will you let me practice in peace?”

“Huh?”

He flushes scarlet. “You heard me!”

Hinata’s eyes narrow, and he gets up to walk to Kageyama, inching closer to his face until they’re inches apart. “....Have you ever even kissed anyone before?”

Kageyama throws the ball at Hinata’s head, and it bounces off his skull and into the cart. “Of course I have!”

Hinata shrugs and moves closer. “You sure?”

“Why would I offer if I wasn’t sure, idiot?”

Hinata laughs under his breath, bright and cheerful. It blinds the overhead lights. “Of course,” he says and kisses Kageyama.

[ 17 April 2014 — 18:51 ] 

>> _We should practice kissing more often btw._

>> _I think i need more practice_

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

_ >> Also who was your first kiss I’m curious ლ(｀∀´ლ) _

[ You are typing … ]

Teruya.

>> _(・・。)ゞ_

>> _Which class is she in_

>> _I dont think we have anyone named Teruya in Karasuno_

>> _Unless you’re talking about the third year basketball player_

>> _But i didn’t think he was a cougar! Σ(‘◉⌓◉’)_

>> _Kageyama kun are you a sugar baby yes or no_

Idiot.

No.

>> _Then who’s Teruya_

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

>> _Hurry up and tell me (´ﾟωﾟ｀*)_

[ You are typing … ]

She was my classmate

>> _In kitagawa daiichi?_

No.

>> _?_

[ You are typing … ]

In preschool.

>> _HAHAHAHAHAHA_

**connection (n.)  
1\. the act of connecting, the state of being connected  
2\. a relation of personal intimacy  
3\. Narita (NRT) → Incheon (ICN) → Galeão–Antonio (GIG)**

April 8, 2016 

“You’re sure you have everything?” Hinata’s mom mumbles into his shoulder, her words muffled by his old sweater. She’s been crying for hours now, and he’s half grateful, half amazed she hasn’t passed out from dehydration yet.

He nods, rubbing her back in soothing motions. “Double _and_ triple checked.”

“Natsu kept crying when I told her she had to go to school this morning and she couldn’t come see you off, so be sure you call her especially when you land, okay?” she says. “And make sure you have your Portuguese translation book and your volleyball shoes, okay? You don’t know if you’ll be able to find that over there.” Worry pinches her face, and it makes her look ten years older. Hinata moves to hug her again, and he squeezes tighter.

“I’ll be okay, Mom. I promise.” He’s not sure if he can fulfill it, but he’ll try his best. A dark part of him whispers he’s only leaving to run away. Hinata isn’t not sure if he wants to entertain the thought, if only because he’s not willing to accept the answer he gets. 

Behind her, the Karasuno alum and some of his underclassmen wait. Or at least, the ones that could make it. 

“Stay safe over there, Shoyo,” Tanaka says, slinging an arm around him, “Don’t let those city boys scam you, okay? Make sure you always have your wallet in your front pocket— _front!_ not back, this is important—”

Sugawara elbows Tanaka in the side. “Quit saying _city boys_! And he’s grown up now. He’ll be okay. Right, Hinata-kun?”

“Right!”

As his friends crowd him—teary hugs, pats on backs, wishes of safe travels, and all—no one mentions the one person they all thought would be here. 

**blitz (n.)  
1\. an intensive aerial military campaign  
2\. "bring it to me!"**

January 6, 2015 

“—What an amazing service ace from Itachiyama’s captain, Izumi Masahiro! There was no stopping that, even for Karasuno’s libero. And now, Itachiyama is at set point. One more and they take the game!”

Kageyama knows that, realistically, Karasuno volleyball club is a moment in his life, a split second in a years-long volleyball career that he’ll look back on one day in his old age with fondness, possibly telling stories to the neighborhood kids about his glory days. Whatever he has now—the easy camaraderie full of wry jabs and insults without bite, the shared pork buns from Sakanoshita on the walk home from practice, the daily races to the gym and the sweaty smiles they’d traded afterwards—it won’t last forever. They would grow older, grow apart, and all he would have would be empty memories and the empty feeling of missing something (or _someone_ , rather, as his masochistic consciousness is so eager to supply) he would never have again.

_The best players stay on the court longer._

He’s going to make sure he can stay on the court with Hinata for as long as he can. 

“And setter Kageyama Tobio tosses the ball to number five, Hinata Shoyo! Is this their freak quick attack— Oh my! Amazingly, Itachiyama has _blocked_ the spike and taken the game! What an upset! Congratulations to both teams—”

**erosion (n.)  
1\. the state of being diminished or destroyed by degrees**

[ To: Shrimpo — 24 May 2016 — 20:49 ]

>> _Hey !! Do you want 2 Go get yakiniku With us on thursday?_

Can’t go.

Volleyball practice.

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _We could Reschedule it For this saturday? just not on sunday :[ i think im busy then_

Volleyball practice.

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> [ _Shrimpo_ _deleted a message._ ]

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _Ok , have fun !_

**remembrance (n.)  
1\. a memory of a person, thing, or event  
2\. i am the dream you are dreaming. when you awaken, i am that wanting**

May 18, 2016 

Back in middle school, Hinata had never been one of the popular types. Sure, people could put a face to a name, but that had mostly been due to the fact that Hinata was the only redhead in school. Yukigaoka had been just big enough that Hinata had just been another kid. In Karasuno, Hinata had always been around the volleyball team, Nishinoya and Tanaka knuckling his head, Daichi glaring disapprovingly. And when they’d left, he’d had Yachi and Yamaguchi and Kageyama and, very occasionally, Tsukishima.

In Brazil, Hinata is very, very alone for the first time in his life.

Hinata adjusts well enough to life in a foreign country. He’d spent the last year learning Portuguese, and his pronunciation was good enough that people understood him. He’d decorated his room. He’d eaten at every local restaurant near his new apartment at least once. He never stays out too late, and he wakes up early every morning to meditate on the beach, to acclimate to the shifting of the sand. And sometimes, just to remember.

His first week in Brazil, Hinata goes to see the Christ the Redeemer statue. It’s a tourist thing, he admits, but he’s a tourist. The tour guide talks about the history of the statue and its significance to the country, and he thinks Tsukishima would have liked to hear about it. A month in, he sees two street artists spray painting the wall. _Graffiti_ , they tell him. _Art_. Hinata stops and stares at the way the duo sweep cans of paint over brick, the image of a bird in flight coming to life in real time. He stops and takes a picture to send to Yachi. The first time he learns how to do a jump floater on the sand without tripping over his own feet, face in the beach, Hinata thinks of Yamaguchi. It’s all much harder than it looks.

He sees his friends everywhere he looks.

He sees Kageyama even when his eyes are closed, like a phantom limb, calling out for him in the darkness. Sometimes, he turns to make a snide joke or add another tally to their never-ending competition, and he’s met with nothingness. Hinata and Kageyama had been friends because they had been teammates. They had been friends because they were rivals. They’d been rivals because there had been a net, and a ball, and the need to stay on the court for as long as either could. 

In Brazil, there’s only sand and sea and people who don’t know anything about Karasuno or freak quick duos or what it’s like to look at your best friend and give him wings to make him invincible. Chicken, egg. Kageyama, Hinata. Icarus, falling.

Memory really is a poison.

**overthrow (v.)  
1\. to cause the downfall of**

February 27, 2015 

“Is there _anyone_ who can beat our champion? Anyone who _dares_ try to overthrow the legend himself?” Yachi collapses into a fit of giggles onto Tsukishima's couch. 

Yamaguchi has a look of pure despair on his face, the lines drawn into deep-set agony as he stares at the flashing numbers on the screen. Across from him, Hinata cheers. In fourth place, Yoshi’s face sits below Donkey Kong, Shy Guy, and most importantly (the current bane of Yamaguchi’s existence), _Toad_. Hinata’s character.

When Yamaguchi had accidentally revealed that Tsukishima’s brother had gotten him a copy of the (highly anticipated, extremely coveted) Mario Kart 8, Yachi had come up with the idea of a Mario Kart tournament, which was really just Hinata crushing everyone at the game. He claimed it was a natural talent. Kageyama thinks it’s an after-effect of all those times Hinata hung out with Kenma, a talent for technology absolved via osmosis or something like that. 

Hinata catches Kageyama’s eye (who’d been the first to try to beat him at Mario Kart and failed spectacularly, earning himself a snotty remark from Tsukishima about how he was only king on the court and not the perilous track of Moo Moo Meadows) and starts laughing all over again when he sees Kageyama’s pout.

“Yamaguchi,” Kageyama grits out, betrayal written on his face, “I _believed_ in you. I thought you said you were good at this.”

“I _am_!” he wails, retreating back to the Couch of Shame where Kageyama sits.

“Give me the remote, Tadashi,” Tsukishima says, standing up from his Regular-not-Shameful couch. He’s the only one of the group who hasn’t tried to take on Hinata yet. 

Resuming her role as a sports commentator, Yachi cups her hands into a makeshift megaphone and says between giggles, “ _We have a challenger!_ Tsukishima Kei has entered the ring! Will he manage to defeat our champion?”

“Since I’m such a kind player, I’ll let you pick the track,” Hinata says with a smug smile. 

Tsukishima pretends to think then smirks.

“You cheated!”

“I did not.”

“You played the game before me and practiced.”

“I did not. We opened the game together.”

Hinata frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, dejected mandarin orange strewn over the Tsukishima family living room couch. “You hacked the game.”

Yachi throws her head back and laughs with a squeal. “Our champion has been dethroned…by Tsukishima! The sun defeated by the moon!”

Yamaguchi joins her in lightly teasing Hinata. “What an upset! The dark horse candidate has taken Hinata’s place as number one!”

Kageyama moves to console Hinata with an awkward pat on his head. He remembers two months ago, secrets they used to trade with each other, face to face, hand to hand, when touching Hinata wasn’t as terrifying as it was now, before he had confronted Kageyama after practice that night. Whatever they’d said to each other then, it hadn’t been what they meant. “....there, there. You’ll be okay.”

Hinata gives him a small smile, nothing like the ones he used to share. Kageyama thinks he knows what people mean now when they say you never know something’s true value until it’s gone.

“Are you talking to a dog or Hinata?” Yamaguchi teases with a smile. 

Tsukishima takes his glasses off to clean them with his shirt and throws them a wry smile. “What’s the difference again?”

“Oy—!”

**dissonance (n.)  
1\. lack of agreement  
2\. you tasted it. isn’t that enough? of what do you ever get more than a taste? that’s all we’re given in life, that’s all we’re given of life. a taste. there is no more**

December 29, 2014 

After practice, Hinata sighs and slides his back down the wall until he sits on the floor. “We should probably stop, Kageyama.”

“Stop what? Playing volleyball? If you’re tired, then—”

“Stop kissing.”

Kageyama freezes. It’s the first time either of them have said the word since April, back when they first started….whatever it is they were doing. They hadn’t needed to say it to each other—the need to keep the word under wraps, as if speaking the truth of what actually happened would somehow get them crucified for what they were doing (what they’d done). As if it would make the unreal into a reality. _As if._

“What for?” Kageyama says slowly, lowering the volleyball he’d been getting ready to serve.

Hinata swallows the bile pooling in his throat, hopes the saliva is enough to cover his tongue before he trips over it and ruins everything for himself. The gym looks so eerily similar. Even the volleyball cart is in the same place as it was months ago.

“Did you get a girlfriend or something?” Kageyama asks. His tone betrays nothing, but his grip on the volleyball pulls the MIKASA logo taut. 

“No, no, nothing like that.” Hinata shakes his head. “I just think….”

“What?”

Hinata swallows. His pride, his shame, his feelings, all of it. He smiles. “We should probably just focus on Nationals, you know? It might be a distraction. That’s all.”

**silence (n.)  
1\. stillness; absence of sound or noise  
2\. i miss you more than i remember you**

June 21, 2016 

Hinata’s nights are restless, spent tossing and turning, blankets tangling his legs. No matter what he does, the room is too hot and too cold, the blanket too thick and too thin. His first winter in Brazil takes a toll on him he’d never expected. He spends hours staring up at the moon, and he thinks that if Kageyama is looking at it too then it’s at least one thing that binds them together, even on opposite ends of the world, even after everything they’ve done and owe to each other.

Saturday nights are supposed to be spent hanging out with your friends, going out, partying, having fun. He’d even spent his own birthday alone, bumping a volleyball to himself on unforgiving sand as he stared out at faces who didn’t even care to know his name beyond _Ninja Shoyo_ , the foreigner who entered in an orange blur one day and decided not to leave (not yet, at least).

He wonders how he’s supposed to breathe when his lungs and his body are 17,355 km apart.

**absence (n.)  
1\. a state or condition in which something expected, wanted, or looked for is not present or does not exist**

[ To: Yamayama — 25 July 2016 — 02:41 ] 

>> _I’m in Brazil next week for the Olympics._

Congratulations.

>> _[_ _Yamayama_ _is typing … ]_

>> _Do you want to get lunch together? I think I’ll be nearby._

Nah thats okay. Im working that week

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

Good luck at the olympics

>> _[_ _Yamayama_ _is typing … ]_

>> _Thank you._

[ Read at 03:12. ]

**exhale (v.)  
1\. to let or force out of the lungs**

June 5, 2016 

Playing on the same team as Ushijima Wakatoshi feels a little bit like hearing an old song you used to hate in elementary school and deciding that nostalgia and time have softened it enough that you like it now. Once or twice a week, they go to a restaurant after practice ( _“There is a new Korean restaurant nearby that Tendou recommended, Tobio-san.”_ ) or stay a little bit longer to work on tosses. They settle into a routine, of sorts, two odd-balls linked solely through a shared past of one tournament, in one town, in one gymnasium a long, long time ago. A long time ago, Kageyama told this man that he would beat him, when it came down to it, but those days had come and gone, so then what?

It’s nice, to have someone from home in a place where everything seems so big and so foreign (maybe Tanaka had been right with all those things he’d said years back about _city boys_ ), but Ushijima is just Ushijima. And it’s just not the same.

Hinata is everywhere Kageyama doesn’t want him to be—in the inside jokes he can’t make anymore, in the sets he sends to Hoshiumi, in his head (always in his head)—and nowhere Kageyama actually wants him. On Hinata’s birthday, Kageyama buys him a present before he forgets that Hinata isn’t even here for him to give it to. Afterwards, he’s so mad (at who? Hinata? himself? God?) he decides to stuff it in the back of his closet.

It’s so much harder to be left behind than to go away.

**devotion (n _._ )  
1\. the act of dedicating something to a cause, enterprise, or activity  
2\. the fact or state of being ardently dedicated and loyal  
3\. you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling  
4\. he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for**

March 13, 2015 

Kageyama picks the lock on his sister’s drinking cabinet and deftly plucks a bottle of shochu from the back, one that’s cheap and won’t be missed all too much. Besides, he’s really only one year away from being able to drink legally, so it’s not like it matters anyway. The celebration is a small one, a night in with him and Hinata drinking and talking quietly on the floor of his new apartment in Tokyo, lights off and curtains drawn. It’s been the two of them, always and forever, now and until the end of time.

“Ahhh, man,” Hinata says, wonder coloring his voice, “I still can’t believe you’re going pro. Division one too! That’s so… _cool_.”

Kageyama hiccups. He’s almost three drinks in, and it’s only been a little over two hours. He’s not exactly a lightweight but he’s not a professional drinker either, and after the mini-drinking contest he and Hinata had earlier, he’s definitely inebriated. “Did— _hic!_ —did you not think I could do cool— _hic!_ —things, idiot?”

Hinata throws his head back so that it rests on the couch as he stares up at Kageyama’s white ceiling and smiles, his face flushed and glowing. Kageyama can feel the heat of his skin even from his own seat, and he almost pulls away, afraid of the touch. But there’s a secret, deadly part of him that wants to understand what it’s like to be burned by the sun. Just once.

“Nah, don’t worry,” Hinata says softly. “I’ve always thought you were cool, Kageyama-kun.”

Silence falls over the two of them. Years ago, back when they’d first met, Kageyama would have thought it impossible for the two of them to ever have a peaceful moment like this, but every word between them seems so useless. What are the proper words to say to someone who already knows everything you ever want to say, who knows you inside and out, more than you know yourself? Silence isn’t a preference, but a necessity. There are too many words to say and not enough time to say them, and if Kageyama opens his mouth, he’s afraid he’ll choose the wrong ones.

When he looks over, Hinata has a small, soft smile on his face. “Don’t think too hard, Hinata. If you try to overuse a muscle you haven’t worked out before you’ll cramp.”

Hinata scowls but quickly smooths it over into a more placid expression with a sigh as he turns to face Kageyama. “I think I’m in love.”

Kageyama hates the way his heart stops beating inside of his chest, the way his throat closes, the way his tongue shrivels and dries. Five words and he’s immediately sobered up. It’s not him, he knows. He remembers Hinata’s words from months ago, spoken so plainly there couldn’t be a single way to misconstrue them. _A distraction._ That’s all Kageyama was to him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he answers. “With who?”

When he looks at Hinata, a demand to answer his question fast on his lips, he finds Hinata fast asleep, lost to dreams and darkness and somewhere else Kageyama can’t reach. He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night, and he dreams of a sun that leaves no shadow.

**give (n _._ )  
1\. to make a present of  
2\. to offer for consideration, acceptance, or use**

June 21, 2014 

“Hey, before I forget—”

Hinata stops, one leg slung over his bike, the other on solid ground. The nights in Miyagi are never silent—bugs chirp, people speak; distantly, Hinata can hear someone’s radio playing a dance club remix of a pop song—but when he turns to look at Kageyama, all Hinata can hear is Kageyama’s voice. “What is it, Kageyama?”

“It’s your birthday.” Kageyama says slowly.

Hinata laughs. “Yeah, dummy. We all celebrated in the gym today. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about Yachi’s cake, because it was the best cake I’ve ever had.”

“I didn’t forget!” Kageyama snaps. He sighs then reaches into his gym bag, pulling out a small box wrapped in yellow paper. In all honesty, it’d be unfair to actually say that the box was wrapped, and a more correct term would probably be _haphazardly covered in and taped together_ , but Hinata can understand the sentiment. “Here. Happy birthday.”

“Wow! Who knew all it took for you to be so sweet would be for me to turn eighteen? From now on, I’m gonna call you _Nice-yama_!”

“Shut up, you idiot.”

Hinata opens it when he gets home and finds a phone case with a milk design, a pack of his favorite candy, and a tiny drawing of him hitting a spike, signed and dated _Tobio, 19 May 2014_.

**penance (n _._ )  
1\. an act of self-abasement, mortification, or devotion performed to show sorrow or repentance for sin**

April 5, 2016 

It’s not often that they get to hang out like this anymore, what with everyone busy with their own separate lives—Yamaguchi picking up odd jobs here and there, Yachi with her internship at the design company, Tsukishima studying as always. Kageyama at volleyball practice. Their weekly meetings had dwindled down to monthly meetings then trickled down even further to _whenever we can, oh you can’t make it this week? it’s okay, we’ll just reschedule, good luck at volleyball practice!_ It hurts him somewhere, right at the base of his gut, to think that there’s a separation between all of them now that wasn’t there before, but Kageyama isn’t so stupid to have fooled himself into believing that the Karasuno first years would be first years for the rest of their lives. He just thought they’d have more time.

Hinata accompanies him to the Shinkansen in Sendai, fiddling with a loose string on his drawstring bag as he walks. Kageyama is used to Hinata always moving, fiddling with nervous energy and unable to sit still for extended periods. It used to piss him off, used to make him want to slap him up the back of the head and say _sit still!_ Now the thought of stillness makes Kageyama’s throat close up.

“I’ll see you next month,” Kageyama says.

“I—” Hinata exhales, then looks down, analyzing the laces of his shoes. He swallows. “I’m moving to Brazil at the end of the week.”

“What?” _Brazil?_ That was much farther than Tokyo, much further than Hinata and Kageyama have ever been from each other before. And the end of the week...it was Wednesday. Hinata would be leaving in three days. Kageyama stops breathing. Vaguely, he wonders if this is what it feels like to have a heart attack, heart pounding so fast it threatens to punch right through his ribs, every sound muffled other than the sound of Hinata saying he’s a _distraction distraction distraction._

“Yeah, I’m gonna work on...volleyball stuff there. Beach volleyball.” The overhead PA system crackles to life and makes a call for the train ( _“Last call for Sendai to Kodaira! All passengers for Sendai to Kodaira, please board now!”_ ), and Kageyama watches as Hinata swallows the bubble in his throat. “You’re going to miss your train. You’d better go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“ _You’re moving?_ ” It’s all Kageyama can hear. Brazil. Distractions.

Volleyball. That’s all there is.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he says.

**phantom (n _._ )  
1\. not real and existing only in the imagination  
2\. i’m battling monsters, i’m pulling you out of burning buildings and you say i’ll give you anything but you never come through**

December 22, 2016 

At night, he dreams. Every nightmare he’s ever had of Hinata has only been a memory.

**stranger (n _._ )  
1\. a person whom one does not know or with whom one is not familiar  
2\. i see the sun, and if i don’t see the sun, i know it’s there. and there’s a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there**

November 17, 2018 

“Your bowels gonna act up today?” The words leave him before he can even consider them, but the moment they do, a strange flash of regret wells inside of Kageyama. They haven’t seen each other in years, haven’t talked so casually in what feels like even longer. 

A few feet ahead, Hinata Shoyo turns around. The first thing that Kageyama thinks of is, _Oh, he’s taller now_. The second thought that Kageyama has is that Hinata has freckles now, a realization that hits him in stages. It’s _huh, he has freckles_ one second, and _holy shit...Hinata has freckles_.

“I’m not that kind of guy anymore,” Hinata says.

When he smiles, the tension, the fear of Hinata’s anger and pain and _you didn’t say goodbye that day, where were you, why didn’t you say anything?_ leaves Kageyama’s body.

“I’d hope not.”

**orbit (n _._ )  
1\. to move in a curved path around a celestial object (such as a star, planet, or moon) or spacecraft  
2\. kageyama tobio, hinata shoyo**

December 15, 2018 

“Don’t take offense to this, Kageyama-kun, but you look like you’re going to take a shit in your pants,” Kuroo says as he walks over to where Kageyama stands by the bar.

Kageyama scowls into his drink, an expression he’s maintained for the past hour and a half. It’s the first (and only) one he’s allowing himself, but he desperately wishes that he could have a little less self-restraint, if only to let himself drown out the absolute absurdity of his current situation. “This is stupid,” he settles on saying.

“Yeah, it’s stupid. It’s a Christmas party in Japan. We don’t even celebrate Christmas like that.” Kuroo shrugs and turns to look out into the crowd of people mingling, his shrewd eye analyzing faces Kageyama is sure he’s met before but doesn’t remember “But, well, you know….these things are more for the networking and the sponsorships anyway. With the Olympics coming up pretty soon, they’re looking for sponsors before they get snatched up by anyone else.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t stupid,” he repeats. Kageyama is trying his best to smooth out the lines of his face so it doesn’t look like he’s going to murder one of the most successful members of the Japanese Volleyball Association’s promotion department, a feat that would undoubtedly look very bad to the press. 

Kuroo snorts into his whiskey. “You’re scaring people away from the bar, and it’s not fair to those of us who are trying to use it as a socializing tool. I gotta find pockets to scam somehow. Go find your boyfriend and talk to him instead of loitering over here.”

Kageyama burns, his face flushing scarlet. He’s pretty sure he looks like someone just hit him in the face very, very hard. Or he’s had one too many drinks. Maybe he hadn't been as good at keeping track of his alcohol level as he thought he had been (but he’d only had the one drink, so this one seemed a bit far out). “Hinata is not my boyfriend.”

“I never mentioned Hinata.” He grins and swirls the amber liquid around the glass. “Go talk to him. Besides, I see Kenma walking over here, and I wanna see if I can get him to sponsor us.”

Kageyama stalks over to the corner couches where, as Kuroo said, Hinata and Bokuto laugh loudly from their seats on the plush velvet meridienne. There’s a glass of what looks like umeshu in Bokuto’s hand, and from the heavy flush on his face, he’s more than several drinks in.

Hinata, on the other hand, gently swirls around a lite beer bottle, the neck of it locked between his pointer and middle fingers, the dark liquid whirling in a mini hurricane in the bottle. There’s significantly less red on his face than on Bokuto’s. Underneath the dim disco-esque lighting that the decorating committee had set up, he looks more mature, refined. The lines of his face mimic the Hinata he used to know, sharpened by a thousand miles away and two years apart. Kageyama can’t tear his eyes away from the mottled spattering that dusts Hinata’s cheeks, and he wonders for a moment what it’d be like to draw his finger across them and draw a line through them like God connecting the stars. He wonders if God ever prayed to anyone. He hasn’t ever been too particularly religious, so it’d be understandable if God never begged for anything either, but he thinks if God ever did, it’d probably be to touch someone like Hinata.

On the opposite seat, Miya Atsumu sits with his arms crossed over each other, a vaguely pout-ish expression on his face. Atsumu huffs and slumps down, his pressed white shirt wrinkling with the action. “I’m just saying, I don’t think you guys are the best people to be giving me advice about this. That’s all. You don’t exactly have the _best_ track record of successfully confessing your feelings.”

Bokuto straightens his spine, puffing out his chest. “Hey! I’ll have you know that Keiji is _very_ happy with me—”

“I’m talking about Sho-kun, here!” Atsumu says. Exasperation is obvious in his voice. “When are you and Tobi—”

 _Confessing? Who the hell has Hinata been confessing to?_ His stomach clenches. The sternum-feeling tightens. The letters C-O-N-F-E-S-S-I-O-N rattle around his head, knocking into each other and clattering around until it’s all he can hear. _Why is this the first time Kageyama has heard of this?_

“Hey.” Kageyama walks over and takes a seat on the single sofa chair beside Hinata. There’s room on the couch beside him, but he’s not sure if he can handle it. The room is too hot already (he’s sweating, oh God, he’s sweating; what if he has a pit stain?), even in the middle of winter, and Kageyama pretty sure if he sits beside Hinata, he’ll just internally combust.

Three sets of eyes turn to look at him.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Kageyama moves to wipe his mouth and the area around his chin. Hinata looks away, finding the label of his drink suddenly incredibly interesting.

“No, no, don’t worry, Tobio-kun,” Atsumu says, suddenly revived. He smirks, locking his eyes onto Hinata. “There’s nothing wrong with your face. What do you think, Hinata?”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s good. All fine. Nothing there.” Hinata doesn’t even bother to look up from his drink. _Was Hinata mad at him? Still?_ Hadn’t they talked it over, cleared it all up? 

Kageyama nods slowly, his eyes focused on Hinata’s face. He feels something strange bubbling in his chest, right underneath his sternum, and he hates himself for the way he envies the light that touches Hinata’s cheekbones. At the moment, for the first time in his life, he feels something worse than that for Miya Atsumu.

In the back of his mind, he faintly registers Bokuto’s boisterous laugh booming through the room.

**setter (n _._ )  
1\. the volleyball player who orchestrates the offense for the team**

August 19, 2016 

Successfully logged in to Google Chrome as  hshoyo621@gmail.com .

Search:

>> japan olympics volleyball 2016

>> japan olympics volleyball replay livestream

>> japan olympics volleyball replay livestream 2016

>> kageyama tobio olympics

>> kageyama tobio olympics 2016 replay

>> kageyama tobio jump serve

>> japan olympics team 2016

>> kageyama tobio

>> karasuno high school japan miyagi

>> how to know if you are in love

>> how to know if you are in love with a guy if you are a guy

>> how to know if you are in love and you are both guys long distance

>> do long distance relationships work

>> long distance relationships success rate

>> cute videos to make you happy when you are sad

CLEAR SEARCH HISTORY?

>> YES

**distance (n _._ )  
1\. an amount of space between two things or people  
2\. hinata and japan  
3\. hinata and kageyama**

June 21, 2016 

OPEN CALL HISTORY?

[ Yes ]

Hinata Shoyo (Phone) — 7 Days Ago, 10:06 [ Missed Call ]

Hinata Shoyo (Phone) — 3 Days Ago, 17:29 [ Missed Call ]

Hinata Shoyo (Phone) — 3 Days Ago, 17:32 [ Missed Call ]

>> Outgoing: Kageyama Miwa (Phone) — 3 Days Ago, 17:35

Yachi Hitoka (Phone) — 2 Days Ago, 13:41

Hinata Shoyo (Phone) — Yesterday, 06:59 [ Missed Call ]

>> Outgoing: Hinata Shoyo (Phone) — Today, 21:22 [ No Answer ] 

  
  
  


CALL  HINATA SHOYO ?

[ Yes ]

……...…… THE PERSON YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH IS UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE HANG UP OR LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE.

  
  


_“.....Hey, uh….Happy twentieth birthday, Hinata. Um…. Hope you’re doing well……... Bye.”_

**trust (v _._ )  
1\. to rely on the truthfulness or accuracy of  
**

July 31, 2021 

_“On the other side of the net, all eyes are on Hinata Shoyo, the greatest decoy! After two years of beach volleyball in Brazil, he returned to Japan and joined the V.League. In his first Olympic appearance, he gets to play alongside his old teammate Kageyama Tobio. In high school, they were feared as potent masters of aerial combat.”_

“Hey, Kageyama!”

“What.”

“Make sure you give me loads of tosses today, okay?”

“Make sure you bump the ball good enough then.”

**deliverance ( _n._ )  
1\. the saving from danger or evil  
**

February 2, 2022 

The flight to São Paulo takes nearly a day, and Kageyama is more than grateful that Hinata had the foresight to book an aisle seat near the back for him, letting him get up to stretch his legs out every so often. The seat, lumpy cushions and all, commit war crimes on his back, and it only takes an hour or so for him to regret not bringing an extra pillow to use as a backrest. Being away from Hinata the second time is a much different experience than the first. The dirty air that had built up between them the first time, smog-like and choking, has no place this time around, and Kageyama is free to breathe. He’d sit in a thousand airplane chairs for a thousand hours each if it meant the distance between them—metaphorically, at least—would never exist again.

When he lands, Hinata is waiting for him at the gate. His mouth is split open in a grin, and he bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet. In his hands, he holds a cheesy poster sign with the words _SUPER HOT JAPANESE VBALL PLAYER_ written in offendingly bright colors. He’d even added glitter glue hearts around it.

“Kageyama!” Hinata says, excitement bubbling inside of him. He can hardly keep still, and Kageyama can tell. “You made it!”

“Yeah, I made it.” He tries his hardest not to smile, but it’s a difficult task when Hinata keeps glancing back and forth from the sign to Kageyama’s face, anticipating his reaction. “What’s this for?”

“It’s my airport sign! For you. So you could find me!”

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” Kageyama says. “I’ll always find you, no matter where on earth you are.”

Hinata flushes bright red. “I— Don’t say stuff like that! God, you’re so embarrassing. I can’t bring you out anywhere!”

Kageyama can’t help it. He leans back and laughs.

Hinata smiles. “Come on. Let me help you put your bags in the Uber. I have a surprise for you.”

“The courthouse? Your surprise is at the courthouse?” Kageyama can’t help the incredulity that colors in his voice. A courthouse? What the hell could they do at a courthouse?

Hinata’s eyes widen. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, I was so excited that you got here that I forgot to ask you.”

“Ask me what?” Kageyama’s eyes narrow.

Hinata grins. “Wanna get married?”

**amusement ( _n._ )  
1\. a means of amusing or entertaining  
2\. the condition of being amused**

[ To: Yamayama — 17 June 2016 — 21:38 ] 

Look who i found in Rio!

[1 img attachment: chibichan_and_grandking.png ] 

>> _Wtf._

**sun ( _n._ )  
1\. the luminous celestial body around which the earth and other planets revolve, from which they receive heat and light  
2\. as in shoyo (翔陽), meaning flying sun**

December 18, 2018 

_One day I’ll set for you_ , Miya Atsumu tells Hinata at that first Spring Interhigh years ago. Eyes locked, net up, game lost. Kageyama had been standing right there, and Atsumu hadn’t even looked his way, eyes locked on Hinata. And that night, at the JVA Christmas-party–sponsorship-collecting-celebration, they’d all been sitting together talking about _confessions_.

Mental image of _Miya Atsumu_ , of all people, doing innocuous things like holding Hinata’s hand and kissing his cheek bombarded Kageyama’s brain. In a panic, Kageyama had spent three days flailing around and trying to clear his head. He’d done everything—going on five-mile runs in the freezing cold, practicing his serves in the empty gym before and after everyone left, asking Hoshiumi to hit some of his tosses (which lasted for all of twenty minutes; it felt a little too much like betrayal, like he was abandoning something vital and trying to trade it away). In the end, he’d settled on calling the one person he knew could remain as impartial as possible in the whole ordeal while still maintaining at least semi-helpful.

“Kageyama, I really don’t know why you’re asking me this. This seems more like a personal problem I can’t help with. Also, as both yours and Hinata’s sports trainer, I think there’s some sort of breach of confidentiality going on here too.”

“Iwaizumi-san, I…” Kageyama sighs, throws himself on his bed, and resists the urge to slam a pillow into his face. He hears a wrinkle on the connection, static messing with the clarity.“I don’t know what to do. I think Hinata is in love with Miya-san.”

Iwaizumi clears his throat, the sound oddly sharp for how bad the audio had been only moments earlier. “Again, Kageyama, I don’t see how or what I can do to help you with this—”

“Um, well… How did Oikawa-san ….you know.” Kageyama flails, the right words seem out of his grasp.

Iwaizumi huffs a laugh on the other line. “If he heard you admit that he’s better than you at romance, you know he’d never let you live it down, right? Especially if he finds out that you asked me instead of him.”

Kageyama’s face turns red. “I am not—!”

Iwaizumi laughs again. “I’m just messing with you.”

He lets out a small sigh, likely remembering his fiancé, currently on the other side of the world, surrounded by foreign faces in a foreign place. They see each other in the off-season, sneaking weekends and video calls in between, but Kageyama doesn’t know how Iwaizumi stands the distance. Kageyama is keenly aware of the distance between Japan and South America, every mile like another pinprick to the heart. Every action he’d ever taken in the two years Hinata had been away had been like moving through mist, everything jaded and unclear. Worst of all, he hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye, missing Hinata’s send off because of a short notice mid-morning volleyball practice with the Adlers. His phone had died, and he’d been unable to text before Hinata’s plane left. Afterwards, when he’d finally remembered to charge his phone, it seemed too little too late.

( _Volleyball? That’s it?_ his memories ask. _Is that all there is?_ )

“Listen, Tobio, everyone’s different, okay? You and Hinata more than most.” Another crackle on the phone. “Whatever you’ve done to him, whatever he’s done to you…. None of it really matters, alright? But ask yourself if whatever happened then is more important than what you want to happen now. Then ask yourself if you’re willing to give each other what you want.”

Kageyama glances at the framed picture on his wall, taken their third year at Karasuno, just before they’d played their first game at Nationals that year. Hinata, mouth split wide open in a grin that stretches from ear to ear, sits in the middle of the frame, his arm slung over Kageyama.

“....Thank you for your advice, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Don’t worry about it. And be sure you get some sleep. It’s late and you have practice tomorrow.”

**moonstruck ( _n._ )  
1\. the quality or state of being warm in feeling**

[ To: Shrimpo — 02 January 2019 — 01:53 ] 

Are you still awake?

>> _Hehe yes I am_

>> _I’m watching one piece rn_

>> _Why?_

Did you know there are 900 square feet on a volleyball court

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

But I’d always find my way directly to you

>> _( *’ω’* )_

>> _AW KAGEYAMA !_

>> _hehehehe_

[ To: Yamayama — 05 January 2019 — 03:11 ] 

Hinata

>> _it’s almost 2 in the morning why are you awake bateyama kun_

>> _you need to get your beauty sleep!!_

I have a question for you.

>> _Σ(･ิ¬･ิ) a question? this late?_

_ >> What is it _

Are you a setter

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> σ(´し_｀〃)ゞ

>> _kageyama did you hit your head again?_

Answer the question.

Are you a setter?

>> _no Kageyama i am not a setter —.—_

Say yes.

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _What?_

Say “yes I am a setter”

>> _[_ _Shrimpo_ _is typing … ]_

>> _Yes I am a setter_

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

Then you should set your ass up and let me hit that

>> _(ఠ ̥̆ ఠ)_

>> _I think you need to get your monthly check up done tomorrow kageyama_

[ To: Tanaka-senpai — 05 January 2019 — 06:10 ] 

Your advice didn’t work

>> _?? HUH_

>> _what do you mean it didn’t work_

>> _that’s my TRIED AND TRUE METHOD! that’s how i got kiyoko to date me!_

>> _volleyball puns! (•̀o•́)ง_

Hinata is taking me to the doctor.

He thinks I am sick

Are you sure Shimizu-san didn’t agree out of worry?

>> _Kageyama if you were here right now I would hit you_

[ To: Koushi-san — 07 January 2019 — 11:52 ] 

>> _Don’t overthink it, Kageyama! Just be straightforward and be yourself! But don’t forget to be nice, okay?_

>> _I believe in you!!_

>> _[1 img attachment: kitkat.png ]_

[ To: Shrimpo — 08 January 2019 — 02:47 ] 

Hinata

>> _Kageyama are you still sick?_

>> _I thought the doctor said you were ok_

>> _We have a practice game tomorrow_

I have a question

Then i’ll go to sleep

>> _(╯⊙ ⊱⊙╰ )_

>> _what is it?_

…. it’s not a pickup line I promise !

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

>> _kageyama did you fall asleep on your keyboard ?_

[ You are typing … ]

[ You deleted a message. ]

>> _??_

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

[ You are typing … ]

Do you want to go on a date with me after practice tomorrow?

>> _◦°˚\\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦_

>> _Hehe of course !_

**warmth ( _n._ )  
1\. the quality or state of being warm in feeling  
2\. kageyama tobio’s hands on a cold night  
3\. whatever the hell hinata feels when kageyama kisses him**

November 8, 2014 

“I think I’ve gotten pretty good at that, don’t you, Kageyama?” Hinata whispers with a small smile.

These moments, stolen after practices, lightning fast, are the favorite part of his day. He looks forward to them, to the seconds the gods give him where he’s given little treasures like this. Lips on lips, hands on shoulders. His heartbeat moves a mile a minute, pounding so quickly in his chest he’s afraid it’ll beat right out of his chest and into his hands like a grotesque little offering. _Here!_ he imagines saying to Kageyama, _this is my heart. It’s a little bloody, but please be careful with it, okay?_

Kageyama grunts and moves his hand to tangle their fingers together, the calloused pads of his fingers ( _setter’s hands_ , he thinks, _these are the hands that throw my tosses_ ) brushing lightly over Hinata’s knuckles. An angel’s touch. It warms Hinata in a way that gloves never could. “Dunno. You could use more work.”

“Hmm?” Their breaths cloud in the air, with little puffs of smoke moving in the spaces they don’t occupy. There are only inches between them, and somehow Hinata hates everything they mean. He’d give anything to close the gap.

“Your technique is a little sloppy, asshole. How are you gonna make some girl happy if your kisses are shit?”

Hinata doesn’t let his smile waver. It’d been his fault, of course, to forget the whole reason why they were doing this, to let his dreams take over his reality. A favor between friends. A rare act of benevolence. Something never to be revealed, never to be publicized. He’s not entirely sure when the thought of being _with_ Kageyama sounded more appealing than being _alongside_ him.

There’s nothing between them. They’re just friends. Nothing more. Everything less.

“You’re right,” he says. “Let’s practice some more later, though. I’m getting tired.”

**endure ( _n._ )  
1\. to remain firm under suffering or misfortune without yielding**

March 13, 2022 

“As much as I love our rings, you know we’re not allowed to wear jewelry on the court, right?”

Hinata frowns, twisting the metal on his finger, then he looks up and smiles. “Hey. I have a great idea.”

Kageyama tries his best not to feel fear at the look in Hinata’s eyes. “....What’s your idea?”

“Follow me!”

“A tattoo? _That’s_ your great idea?”

Hinata grins. “They can’t tell us to take it off if it’s on our skin, right?”

The tattoo takes a few weeks to heal, and by that time, Kageyama is back on a plane to Italy, on his way to prepare for the FIVB championship. It’s a simple enough design, just a single black line. The tattoo artist had said there was a possibility it could fade, since finger tattoos weren’t known for their special longevity, and they’d probably need to have it touched up every so often, especially since they were volleyball players.

Kageyama doesn’t think he minds that so much, the act of renewing his ring. Like he’s picking Hinata over and over again, no matter how unreal his reality may be. _I choose you_ , he thinks, _It’s always you. No matter what. I’ll send you a toss, and I’ll choose you._

**confirmation ( _n._ )  
1\. an act or process of confirming, such as to to give new assurance of the validity of**

[ 2 Images: A selfie of Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio on the beach with a sunset behind them; Hinata is piggybacking on Kageyama’s back. A candid of Kageyama Tobio looking down at a single gold band on his left ring finger. Location tagged: São Paulo]

**@hshoyo_1996** [ 10 February 2022 ] **:** we got married !!!11!

>> **@heyheybokuto:** MY DISCIPLE

>> **@heyheybokuto:** CONGRATULATIONS

>> **@natsu.hinata:** shoyo wtf? why didnt you tell me earlier :’( you didnt even call to lmk….

>> **@oikawaofficial:** congratulations chibi chan ~! i’ll be sure to address the wedding gift to just you, ok?

>> **@r0llingthunder:** CONGRATS BRO

>> **@____ryu:** AHA! TELL KAGEYAMA MY ADVICE DID WORK

\+ 10242 comments

“When did you guys even start dating?”

“Um….like a year ago?”

“You guys got married after a year of dating after two years of being apart?”

“Technically we’ve known each other for ten years.”

“ _Technically_ , you didn’t call Mom and she’s going to have a heart attack once she finds out you eloped with your boyfriend in Brazil. Also, you didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend—!”

**salvation (n.)**  
**1\. preservation from destruction or failure**  
**2\. deliverance from danger or difficulty**

September 10, 2022 

“Kageyama-senshu! Kageyama-senshu! My name is Sugiyama Tomoko, and I’m from NHK News Japan. Would you be willing to answer a few questions on your performance today, here at the 2022 FIVB Volleyball Men's World Championship?”

“Uh...sure.”

“About the opposing team, you’ve been acquainted with one player in particular—Hinata Shoyo—for a majority of your life, and you were teammates for most of that acquaintanceship. Recently, he posted a confirmation of your marriage on his Instagram. Does this knowledge aid your play against him in any way? Does it make it harder to be on the opposing team as him?”

“We were rivals before we were teammates. And we were teammates before we were friends.”

“....Ah, okay. I see. And where do you see yourself in five years, Kageyama-senshu? Still playing volleyball or is there anything else in your life you’d like to pursue?”

“I’ll retire one day.”

“Oh?”

“And I’ll play volleyball with Shoyo.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all I need.”

That’s all there is.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://seijohs.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/A0BAJOSAI)
> 
> 1 | Kit-kats are given as good luck in Japan, since the expression for きっと勝つとぉ (“You’ll surely win!”) sounds like you’re saying Kit-Kat. In Japan, there are special packages with encouraging messages written on them too.  
> 2 | Hinata’s phone case, at least in time-skip Brazil, is shown to have a milk print on it.  
> 3 | With how he always keeps up his volleyball journals, I like to think that Kageyama is a good artist (which is why he gives Hinata a lil sketch), but he just never draws because he’s so volleyball-focused.  
> 4 | I’ve never had a tattoo. Idk how they really work.
> 
> Quote sources  
>  _Book of Hours: Love Poems to God_ by Rainer Maria Rilke  
> "The Dying Animal" by Philip Roth  
>  _On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous_ by Ocean Vuong  
>  _The Orchid Thief_ by Susan Orlean  
> "You Are Jeff" by Richard Siken  
> "Wishbone" by Richard Siken  
>  _The Brothers Karamazov_ by Fyodor Dostoevsky


End file.
